The Damnation Eternal
by slim-chance17
Summary: I saved you from death. I took your grace. It's only now when I see you again that I wonder if it was the right choice. You no longer remember me. But I've remembered for the both of us. -In which Sam and Dean's sister is actually a fallen angel, and Cas was the one who sent her to Earth . Cas/OC
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL.**

* * *

_The feel of soft grass beneath her feet can only calm her so much when the faces of those much fiercer are staring down at her. Archangels have even gathered here, and she knows that her punishment will be as severe as their angry little minds can make it. Friends are also here, but the only figure that she can bring herself to truly acknowledge is Castiel's. Her greatest and oldest friend. Part of her almost wished that he wasn't here. It would be a poor thing to see; a friend burning painfully into the ground. _

_"Evangeline. Are you listening?"_

_She shot her head up from the ground and bore her eyes into Raphael's. "No. Not particularly."_

_The previous show of a smug smirk on his face quickly fell. He stepped forward, his movements just as slow and dangerous as any other Archangel. "You never did learn the art of respect, did you?"_

_"Those who have earned my respect shall receive it, Raphael," Eve replied, her voice a low threat. Despite her position, she would hardly give him the upper hand that he wanted. __"Let's finish this."_

_"You seem to have forgotton your place," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "So let me remind you. You were banished from Heaven, but you ignore your exile. Then you continue to work against your elders, you taint the name of our Father with your doubtful ways-"_

_"You forget that I'm not the only angel with a mind of my own," she added. "Some others have shared the same thoughts. Your attempts at keeping the rumours out of the way have failed miserably."_

_Raphael's face twisted into a growl. "Why, you pathetic little abomination. You're no better than a common whore-"_

_"Raphael," Castiel's sharp voice cut in. Both angels shared a cold stare. "Keep to the matters at hand."_

_"Very well," Raphael muttered, turning his attention back to Eve. "Let's skip furthur to the punishment. Evangeline, in order to assure that your sinful thoughts and words will no longer be heard amongst us, I sentence you to death."_

_"You haven't changed," Eve says, a small grin spreading on her lips. "And for that, your day of punishment shall come. I look forward to splattering your guts all over the walls."_

_Raphael glared with fire in his eyes as he raised a hand. "Should be hard when your bones are ash," he spat. "I would tell you that you're going to a better place, but, I doubt it."_

_Eve shut her eyes, waiting to feel the hot burn of boiling flesh or charring skin. However, when her moment came, a bright light cleared the sky, and she opened her eyes quickly, just in time to see Raphael's figure burn into the white clouds, paired with a vengeful cry of anger. The light disappeared soon after, and the garden is empty once more. A pair of hands latched onto her arms tightly, and she quickly felt the pinch of bark against her back as she's forced against a tree. As she looked up, she was met with the bright blue eyes of Castiel's vessel._

_"Castiel-" she began. He raised a hand to silence her._

_"We haven't much time, Eve." His voice was rushed, panicked. But there is no acknowledgment to what he has done. No fear or regret. Just the voice of someone who has run out of options. Out of ideas. Eve looked down and saw the sharp blade slide into his hand. What is he to do? Kill her before they can? Without pain? No, he would never. "Eve, watch my eyes." She looked up and meets his stare, just inches away. Castiel always had the most fiercest of gazes, grasping onto your soul with just a look. "I can do this for you, if you desire," he said, his voice grave. "I would much rather this option than watching you burn."_

_"Myself as well," she breathed. "But what-"_

_"Your grace," he replied, breathless. "We must remove it. They'll never find you."_

_Her grace? Only few angels have even told stories of such a thing. _

_"Is it possible?"_

_"Yes." His reply was short, just as they often were. "I'm sorry- it will be painful. But it's the only way." His hands reached up and quickly began working at unbuttoning her shirt. "I'll place you on earth. As a child perhaps. You will have no memory of your grace. The Garrison." His eyes flickered up and met hers once more. "Me." His stare dropped again as his fingers traced over the skin of her stomach with the lightest touch. His voice dropped into a quiet mumble as he spoke. "...I wish that it didn't have to be this way."_

_"Castiel." Her hand reached for his cheek, pressing her palm into his warm skin. "I'm no coward. I can take my punishment."_

_His hand flew up to hers, twisting her fingers in his. "I will _not_ watch you burn," he said firmly, glaring into the ground._

_"I'm sorry. For all the trouble I caused."_

_"You have reason. Perhaps if I'd have stood with you, this would not have happened."_

_Eve frowned. "I would never ask you to stand for something you had no faith in. This is my trouble, not yours."_

_"I have faith in your belief." Castiel looked up, bringing her hand down gently. _

_She gave a dry laugh. "No, you have faith in me. There's such a difference." The sudden feeling of cool silver against her stomach made her muscles jump and caused her to grow silent._

_"I will ensure your safety on Earth. However I..." A look of conflict ran across Castiel's face. "I will miss you greatly."_

_"And I you," Eve whispered. "...They'll hunt you for this."_

_A smirk spread upon his face. "Only if they catch me." He pressed the tip of the blade lightly against her stomach. "We're running out of time. This will hurt. I will try and make it brief."_

_"I wish that I could remember you above all else."_

_"I will remember for the both of us. Shut your eyes."_

_Eve obeyed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. As she fell into a waiting game once more, something pressed against her forehead. Castiel's lips were gentle against her skin._

_"Forgive me," she caught him whisper, before the wave of blinding pain hit like a storm._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

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Eve stepped forward onto the muddy bank, the sound of the leaves crunching beneath her feet.

The wind was cold that night, but she didn't dare loosen her grip on the knife to tug her jacket closer. She had to be on target now. Eyes forward, always on her toes. She was alone now, and despite the fact that she could perfectly well gank a demon herself, it didn't make the job any easier.

"Looking for me?" a voice says.

She turns on her heel and holds the knife out in front of her, her body already poised like a spring, ready to pounce if needed. Before her, a person stands, (person being a loose term), weaponless, watching her with a smug grin spread on their face.

"Hello Anya," Eve says. She silently rubs the sharp steel of the knife against the skin of her thumb with twisted apprehension. "Long time no see."

Large brown eyes quickly wash to black in the moonlight. The demon shrugs. "True. Although I have a feeling that you're here not purely for pleasantries." She steps to the side, the leaves crackling with each step. Eve can't help but twitch slightly at the sound. It's the habit and curse of a hunter. They see everything. "What are you bothering me about this time?"

"My brother...Dean." She still has trouble choking out his name. It only comes with horrific pictures of claw marks being engraved into Dean's skin, fountains of blood pouring between the marks. But she swallows it all down and keeps face with the creature in front of her. "I was told that you could have some information that will help me."

Anya sighs. "Yes, I heard that you were on...what was it...an impossible quest in bringing his soul back from Hell?"

"Something like that."

"Well, I have nothing. Sorry."

The beginnings of rage flicker inside Eve as she takes a small step forward. "Don't lie to me. I'm willing to make a deal."

The demon scoffs. "I'm not a crossroad demon, you know. I have a little more dignity."

"I was told that you might have a few friends that know how to open Hell's gates."

"Don't believe everything you hear. I have no such contacts. What you're trying to do? It's crap. Don't think about opening Hell. And that's coming from _me._"

Eve sighed, her shoulders feeling heavy. Time was running out, and Bobby would be wondering where she was soon. "...Just give me something. Maybe you know someone who could-"

Anya forces out a quick, cruel laugh. "Someone who might go in there for you? Are you insane? Look kid, your brother is gone. Burning in eternal fire. He's getting what he deserves."

Something snaps inside Eve then.

An angry growl rips through her throat as she lunges forward, plunging the knife into the air as the demon slips to the side quickly. But Eve knows her next move before she's even there. She swings around quickly and catches the demon reaching towards her. In seconds, her leg is kicked out and the demon is on the ground with a yelp, it's leg bent backwards at an odd angle. It's hand flies up and catches Eve's arm, clawing a long mark into her arm. With a stone-like face, Eve kneels down and slams her elbow against it's nose with a rush of air and a large crack. Her hand is tightly clasped around the knife as she brings it down into the demon's heart, and falls back as a surge of light runs through the body and the creature goes limp.

She's not as concerned for the human host as Sam always was.

Picking herself up from the ground, she tucks the knife into the back of her jeans. As she walks away, she brings up her foot and kicks a tree with an frustrated groan.

For a year now, she'd been searching for a way to bring Dean back. There was never a moment of doubt that she couldn't. Instead of taking jobs, she'd been going back and forth between monsters, grathering information with threats and torture. She wasn't proud of it, but the desperation had reached an all time high.

As she reaches her car, she slips in quickly and lets out a deep breath.

With trembling hands, she starts the engine and drives away into the dark. She misses the Impala, and hates Sam for taking it without even asking. Actually, she hates Sam for leaving, period. They could have perfectly well searched for a solution together. Although, she had the feeling that Dean's end had resulted in a freedom that Sam always wanted. From her.

Dean was always Sam's favourite. It was no doubt an issue of territory. The fact that she was adopted had never particularly bothered her. Well, if 'adopted' was the correct term. Apparently she had ended up on the Winchester's doorstep as a baby, and was taken in because Mary wanted a daughter and Dean liked the idea of having a little sister. She had always felt like a Winchester, and was always treated as such. John had told her that she wasn't theirs just after Sam left for Stanford, but after that, nobody had spoke of it. Just pretended that it wasn't a fact. Ignored it. But it had affected Sammy more than anyone else because Dean was _his. _

Eve loved both her brothers very much. But Sam could be difficult, and often was during their childhood, so she just let him be, and made no fuss when things got tough between them. Him leaving after Dean's death was another thing. She needed him then, and she wanted them to work through it together. He had different plans.

When she pulls into the scrap yard, she takes no care in parking the car correctly. Pulling in between two decaying metal frames, she slides out and walks around to the trunk, retrieving two large shopping bags that she'd collected before her secret meeting. Bobby hated when she did this, so she did everything she could to prevent him from finding out.

It only seemed natural that she stay with Bobby after Dean's deal struck an end. He was always a good friend to them, and always treated her like she wanted to be treated. After John died, he seemed to fill the gap that all the Winchester siblings felt.

When she gets into the house, she finds him behind his desk, elbow deep in papers and books. Keeping himself busy by trying to find new cases. "Hey Bobby." She dumps the bags on the table and removes her jacket.

"Took your time," he mutters from behind a book.

"Long lines. Here." She slides a bottle across the table, which he grabs, unscrews the cap and takes a large gulp, all without lifting his eyes. She then carries the rest of the shopping to the kitchen and begins unpacking. Silence fills the rest of the house, and for a few moments, the only sounds that can be heard are the faint flicks of pages and the taps of feet. When everything is unloaded, Eve leans against the kitchen table and clears her throat. "Sam call?"

There's a pause from the other side of the room before she can hear Bobby's curt reply. "Nope. Why do you care?"

"Just wondering." Her voice is quiet, and the conversation feels weird on her tongue, but her mind keeps knawing away with the questions. "I wish I knew if he was alright. Or where he was at least."

"Funny, last time you talked about Sam was when you called him a 'Giant, Stupid, Freak of Nature'."

"I know. He still is. I just...miss him. He's my brother." Slowly, she steps out, and watches Bobby behind his desk. "The only brother I have right now."

"Don't start with that crap again," he cuts in. Dropping his book, he looks up and catches her eye with a stern stare. "You're both adults. You don't have to be co-dependant on him anymore." Seeing her distant gaze into the ground, he softens his voice. "I know you. You're feeling guilty. But Sam's responsible for himself, and that's how he wants to be." Knowing he's right on the money, she gives him a nod. "Now come here, I got a job for ya'."

"Give me something good."

"I'm thinkin' witches." As she reaches his desk he holds out a newspaper. She reaches forward to take it, but his eyes have already fallen to the scratch marks along her forearm. Deep and stained a dark red, he drops the paper and sighs heavily, shaking his head in dismay. "...Not again, Evie."

Eve's eyes catch the marks and she quickly folds her arms over her chest. "It's nothing. I just fell-"

"Don't lie to me, girl. I wasn't born yesterday. You were out talkin' to demons again." Bobby rises from his seat and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes scrunching together. "You Winchesters and your damn death wishes..."

"I'm getting close to something, Bobby. I know I am."

"Do ya' have to lie to me? What if something happened?"

She rolls her eyes. That's something she's heard plenty of times over her hunting years. "But nothing did! I've been doing this for years, give me a little credit. Besides, you would never have let me gone."

"Please. I know you well enough to know that you're just as unstoppable as the rest of your family. I would, however, have tried to talk you out of it."

"Why is this so bad? I'm trying to find a way to get Dean back!" The words burn her. Her hands form into fists by her sides as her chest begins rising and falling with angry breaths.

Bobby stomps across the room wearing an angry scowl. "Why can't you just let him go? Can't you see what you're doing to yourself!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" she cries.

"Let go! Grieve! Move on! Just don't drag this out for the rest of us!" The air between them becomes thick with silence as he drops his head to the ground, shaking it gravely. "You stupid Winchesters. I helped bury one of you a year ago. Don't make me stand over your grave too."

She barely has time to think of a response before he turns his back and walks away, leaving her alone, tired and frustrated in the quiet hours of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

* * *

The night passes by slowly for Eve, who barely catches sleep. Despite have hardly managed to sleep at all during the year, the following morning feels worse than it normally does as a result of the tiring emotional turmoil the previous night.

She can barely bring herself to drag her sorry ass out of bed and downstairs.

She hated fighting with Bobby. It was a rare and difficult event that neither liked to come face to face with. With Dean and Sam both gone, they were pretty much all they had around. Even though he would never admit to it, she knew that he loved her like a daughter, but respected her as a hunter. Never before had she been treated like this from one person. Dean and Sam loved her, raised her, and taught her everything she knew. But being the youngest female in a family with a great exposure to danger was not the most fun in the world. Even John had his difficulties. After Mary died, he was at a loss with how to raise a girl. Eve ended up doing most of the work herself.

Digging her face deep into her pillow, she sighs. Today she would go and stock up on supplies.

Finally managing to drag herself out of bed, she dresses herself in jeans, a dark green t-shirt, and hunting boots. She also ties her hair up, and tries to remember when the last time was that she had it down. She's suddenly hit with a jog of memory that makes her smile, yet want to weep at the same time.

_"Okay, Evie," Dean said, brushing the stray hairs from Sam's shoulders. The scissors ring together in his hand that might as well be the largest carving knife in Eve's mind. "You're next."_

_With John away, 18 year-old Dean was left in charge with a list of instructions. One of them being to cut the other two's hair. _

_11 year-old Eve backed away quickly, ducking behind the bathroom door. "Dean, no. Please."_

_Dean rolled his eyes and slapped Sam on the shoulder, who jumped off and ran his hand through his now cropped hair. His face twisted into a scowl._

_"You took too much off!" He sent a glare towards his older brother. "You said no more than an inch!"_

_"Guys, I'm not a freaking stylist, okay? The less there is, the less there is for the monsters to grab onto. Eve, get your ass on this chair."_

_Eve found the golden chance she needed, turned, and ran. She only made it a few feet away from the bathroom in the small motel room when she heard Dean's cry. "Sam! Grab her!"_

_A squeal escaped her lips as she sprinted towards the door, only to be tackled to the ground as soon as she reached the handle. She rolled over and was met with Sam's menacing smirk. "Let me go, Sammy!"_

_"If I have to get it done, then so do you!" he teased. He reached down and began to tickle her stomach, her only true weakness. Laughing uncontrollably, Eve weakly pushed against him. _

_"Sam stop!"_

_"Come on, take it like a man!" Sam declared in a loud war-cry. Eve continued to laugh as tears began rolling down her cheeks. _

_"Dean! Help!"_

_The oldest stood by the bathroom, watching the scene with an amused smile spreading on his face. "Let's just cut your hair and get it over with. Then maybe I'll help you."_

_Giggling until her stomach felt like it would explode, Eve cried out. "Okay! Fine!"_

_Sam continued to tickle his sister until he felt a pair of hands lift him from the ground as if he were nothing. He looked up at Dean with betrayal in his eyes. "Dude! I had her!"_

_Lifting Eve onto her feet, Dean waved his hand at Sam. "Yeah, okay Rambo. Watch some TV or something."_

_As Eve sits in the chair, she shuts her eyes and waits in terror. Dean was never good with this stuff. She always wanted to keep her hair long just like Mary used to have it. But as they got older, the family dynamics turned into more of a military based operation. She went along with it, because making a fuss meant that there would be less hunting trips for her. That was the one thing she enjoyed. _

_"Okay, done. That wasn't so bad, was it?" _

_Eve opened her eyes and gave a sharp inhale. Reaching up, she pulled on the ends of her hair, which before had reached her chest, and now hung limply in choppy strands against her neck. In the reflection of the mirror, she caught Dean's sympathetic stare, and forced herself to push through a smile._

_"Thanks Dean," she said weakly. _

_Dean smiled and leaned over to kiss her on the top of the head. "Good girl. Go get something to eat."_

She finds Bobby sitting on the porch outside, a half-empty glass being twirled around in his hand mindlessly. It's then that the wave of guilt hits her so hard that she almost stumbles back. Bobby had done nothing for her in her entire life apart from keeping her safe. That was in no way his job, but he continued none the less. Dammit, she could be a grade A bitch when she wanted to be.

"...Morning." Her voice comes out as a weak splutter.

A gruff 'humph' comes as a reply.

Eve sighs and sits on the ground besides his chair. For a moment, neither says anything.

Eventually, she is the first to speak. "Bobby, I'm sorry. I had no right to go off on you like that. The thing is...everything you're saying is completely true. Whether I like it or not." A large sigh falls with her shoulders. "I just can't accept it. Dean and Sam are the two people I never thought I'd lose. And when Sam got stabbed...I couldn't handle it. Dean was crazy doing what he did. I'm not saying that I'd rather have Sam dead, but it kills me having seen both of them die." She bites down hard on her bottom lip, feeling the metallic taste of blood drip onto her tongue. "...Why do we have to be the ones who lose everything? All we had was each other. Maybe you're right, and I'm just being stupid. Maybe I should just let him go. ...Let both of them go."

"I never said you were stupid, ya' idjit," Bobby cuts in, an eye roll to match. "You're a smart kid. I ain't yer' father or brother. I can't tell ya' what to do. You just need to realise how much this grand plan of yours is killin' ya. You and Sam are the last Winchesters standing. Try and make that last."

She replies with a weak nod. "I know."

"You miss 'em. I do too. But Dean wouldn't want ya' to waste what's left of your life on him."

"No, he wouldn't."

"Maybe this is your chance to get out of the life. Start yer' own."

"Somehow I don't think I'm suited for a picket fence life, Bobby." A small smile spread lightly across her cheeks. "Besides, you need someone to watch your sorry ass."

He shifted in his seat. "Twerp."

She feels a heavy hand reach down and ruffle the top of her head. Swatting it away, she grins.

"...I should go. We need more food." Lifting herself from the ground, she dusts off the dirt from the front of her jeans. "Don't go anywhere."

"Not planning on it."

* * *

After loading several bags in the car, Eve finds herself against the same payphone that she does everytime she goes grocery shopping. Tapping her fingers against the rusted metal, she waits a few moments before dialing.

The numbers she knows by heart. But she barely knows which words to use.

"Sam. It's me." She speaks quietly, listening to the silence in the background, wondering whether he would pick up this time. "You've probably changed your number or something, but I hope you get this." A car drives past, and the Impala flashes in her mind. Turning her back against the road, she clasps a hand over the speaker. "Sammy, I'm sorry. I hope you're okay. I am...I think. I just need you to know that I love you. ...We're not blood, but you've always been my big brother. Don't do anything too stupid, we both know how impulsive you can be. Consider this my last phone call. You know where to find me if you ever need to. ...Bye, Sam." The phone slams down quickly against the holder, and a large breath escapes her.

_Oh Sam. _Where was he? Despite his flaws, he was a damn good hunter, and she wonders if he's still working cases. As much as she hates him for leaving, she can't hide the desperate need she has for her older brother during all this.

* * *

A string of curses fall from her lips as she tries to park the car in Bobby's yard. For someone who hasn't touched a car in years, he sure has a lot of them. She scrapes at least four cars along the side during the mission to park, and in the end, after spying a stranger's wheels near the front door, she rolls to a stop carelessly between a few rusted frames.

"Ass," she mutters to the strange vehicle in the front. Another one of Bobby's hunting pals, probably. The older ones were always the worst.

When she enters, the bags drop to the floor with a crash, and she throws the keys against the shelf. Voices stop in the living room, and she wonders in, tugging her jacket off. "Bobby, you really need to start thinking about cl-"

When she looks up, she finds her voice falling cold to the floor. All thoughts escape her as she stares at the all-too familiar figure standing just feet away from her.

With a flash of bright green eyes and a sly smirk, Dean smiles as he watches a show of emotions flicker across her face.

"...Hey, Evie."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**Just so everyone knows, the storyline will partly follow that of the show. But this is a slight AU, so it will stray from the show to a degree. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Several things run through Eve's head at once. Shock. Fear. Hate. Sorrow. And right back around to shock.

Shock, because here, right before her, despite all odds, is Dean. The very same Dean who she witnessed being ripped to shreds by Hellhounds, followed by pools of blood, endless tears, and a silent burial. This is followed by fear, because this can't be Dean. It's impossible, and out of everyone, she would know. Even the demons don't touch this shit. And if it isn't Dean, then what is it? Hate comes right after, because if it is some supernatural creature, then _how dare they. _How heartless and cruel do they have to be to take Dean's form and walk around right in front of her. How incredibly stupid they are to mess with her right now.

But naturally, it returns to shock, and she finds herself standing there, her jacket slipping from her fingers and falling to the floor with a light thud. Her hazel eyes are wide and still as she watches him. He never looks away. And eventually, he smiles, steps forward and reaches his arms out as if to hold her.

Seconds later, she's moving back, her hand flying to her back pocket and pulling out a silver knife that she keeps on her person at all times. 'Dean' freezes, holds his hands up, and watches her calmly. Pointing the weapon towards him, Eve finds her hands shaking slightly, and consequently, finds it hard to get a good grip.

His eyes flicker down from her eyes to her hand. "...It's okay," he says softly. It's then she realises that it's the first time she's really heard his voice in a year. It makes her stomach knot, and all the grief comes flooding back, drowning her in memories of tears and sleepless nights. Nightmares. Blood.

Bobby's voice comes next, although she can barely bring herself to listen. "It's him. I tested."

She locks her eyes back to Dean's forest green ones, and stares at him with a stone-like glare.

"...Dean."

Dean smiles once more, and lets his hands fall by his sides. "Yeah, Evie. It's me."

The next sound is the clatter of silver against the floor. Eve drops her knife and runs a trembling hand through her hair in confusion. She turns her back to the two, and presses her hand against her stomach, trying to calm the feeling of twists and turns that have suddenly come out of nowhere.

Dean's confused and slightly concerned voice appears. "You, uh, need a minute?"

Turning once more, she barely looks at him for more than a second before running and throwing herself at him. Locking her arms around his neck as tight as she can, Eve buries her face against his shoulder. There's no hesitation as he wraps his arms around her waist, squeezing half the breath out of her.

"Dean," she breaths. Her eyes begin to sting, and she takes a second to swallow down the hard lump that has formed in her throat.

"Yeah, it's me." She can't see his face, but his voices conveys every emotion of a man who's been away from home for the longest time. His grip around her tightens, and she can feel him pressing his nose into her shoulder. "Missed you."

"I hope so." It's him. It's actually him. Everything about the way he feels, smells, speaks...It's the same Dean that it's always been. Suddenly, it's like the dam breaks inside her head, and questions come flooding in. However, she pushes them back, perfectly happy to spend the rest of the day like this, clinging to her older brother that she'd missed so much more than she can bear. "Dammit, Dean...I can't believe you're back."

"You and me both," he says, pulling back slightly, but still refusing to let go. Almost as if letting go would result in his ass being dragged back to Hell. His eyes narrow, and his jaw tightens suddenly with an unspoken grim thought. "What did you do, Eve?"

She tilts her head. "What?"

"I didn't just jump out of Hell for no reason. You must have done something. Bobby says that you were talking to demons. Making deals." His brow creases in disappointment. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

Eve lets her hands fall from around his neck, letting them hang limply against her sides. "...I did it for the same reason you made a deal for Sam. I wanted you back."

"I did that for Sam because that's my job. Because I have to keep you two safe, no matter what the cost. You should never put yourself in that place for me."

"None of the demons wanted to make deals with me, anyway," she says, confusion lacing her voice. "I don't know how you got back, but it wasn't me. It couldn't have been."

Dean looks baffled for a few moments, stepping back and pacing the room with a few steps. When he looks up, he catches Bobby's eye. His voice becomes deeper as he speaks. "Bobby, you said Sam left you a few months ago?"

"A few weeks after you went, actually."

"Well..." He points over to Eve, staring hard into the floor in thought. "If it wasn't you, or Eve...then my guess is that the sasquatch did some mingling with the big D's."

Eve shrugs. "Makes sense. I tried calling him a few times, but he never returned the favour. He just didn't want to be around us very much after you...well."

Dean shakes his head. "Damn it, Sam." He looks up at Bobby, wearing an exasperated look on his features. "You got a working laptop?"

"Sure."

* * *

Just half an hour later, they sit, crowding around Bobby's desk, the screen shining brightly in front of them. Eve sits as close to Dean as she can get, gripping the sleeve of his jacket tightly. Dean just smiles to himself quietly and says nothing. It was something she used to do as a child, when they went to the store, or whatever school they were at that month. But now, she was just doing it because she could. Because he was there.

She doesn't dare ask him about Hell just yet.

Bobby in the kitchen keeps sending glances over their way. She pretends not to notice his small head shakes, or his mumbling to himself. Probably something about the Winchesters, and how they're always getting themselves in trouble one way or another.

Dean beside her, chats on the phone with tiredness in his voice. "Yes, I know, that's a long way to go for a concert. Thanks." He hangs up and places the phone on the desk. "Okay, here we go."

"You find him?" she asks.

"Yeah, just about. Turns out he never really left. Just a few miles out from where I popped up." He exhales deeply, before standing up and patting Eve on the shoulder. "Well, let's go get the dork."

Eve stands up, sending her brother a worried glance. "Dean...maybe you should wait a night. You need sleep, food."

"Eve, I've been sleeping for a year."

"She's right, boy," Bobby adds. "You've just got back from the vacation from Hell. Literally."

Dean rolls his eyes and scoots out from behind the desk. "Look guys, I'm fine. Really. Under normal circumstances, yeah, I could cram down a burger and watch a few hours of crap TV. But Sam's done something, and it ain't gonna be good." Without waiting for another word, he turns and walks from the living room, making his way toward the front door.

* * *

It's obvious Dean is nervous about confronting Sammy. Eve knows him far too well to know that the over exaggeration of footsteps and the clenching of fists is not just for show. As the trio walk down the hallway of the seedy hotel, voices can be heard from the other side of the doors. Couples shouting at each other, the voices of men and women alike having a pretty good time.

"Sam has an interesting choice in home preferences," Bobby mutters under his breath.

"It's better than your place," Dean replies with a smirk.

As they arrive at the door, Dean takes place up front and knocks. After a few moments, the door opens and reveals a dark-haired girl, wearing a skimpy pair of underwear and a shirt. Dean's mouth opens and closes several times before anyone says anything.

It's the girl who speaks first, crossing her arms over her chest expectantly. "So, where is it?"

"Where is what?"

"The pizza? That takes three people to deliver?"

Eve frowns, already taking a dislike to the rude girl. She nudges Dean's arm. "I guess we have the wrong room."

As they turn to leave, another figure steps into view of the doorway. Both Dean and Eve grow silent as they watch Sam, who freezes at the sight of them.

Nobody says a thing, and the air grows thick with silence. Dean smiles, and finally manages to push out the first words. "Heya, Sammy."

Sam's eyes switch between Dean and Bobby, his face creasing with confusion. Disbelief flashes in his face, which quickly turns to anger. Dean steps forward, causing something to click inside Sam. Soon, arms tangle together, and they both fly into the air. At first, Eve does nothing, as she's used to watching the boys sparring. But when she hears the sharp ring of a knife, and sees Dean's body slam against the wall, both she and Bobby move quickly.

"Who are you?" Sam growls as Bobby rips his arm away from Dean.

"Like you didn't do this?" Dean quickly retorts.

"Do what?"

Eve steps in front of Sam, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Sam, it's him! I promise!" As his eyes fall to meet hers for confirmation, she lets her arms fall. "Bobby's tested him already. ...It's really him."

Sam glances back at Dean, who gives a small shrug. "I know," he says breathlessly. "I look fantastic, huh?"

The knife falls to the floor, and Sam runs forward, locking himself to Dean. Dean wraps his arms around his younger brother, shutting his eyes tightly.

When they finally break apart, Sam steps back, and his eyes fall to where Eve stands. "...Eve."

She forces out a smile. "Hi, Sam."

Surprisingly, Sam steps forward and wraps his arms around her, resting the top of his chin upon her head. Eve freezes, not used to the display of affection from Sam, but quickly sinks into it and returns the embrace.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers into her ear, just loud enough to be heard between the two of them.

Eve closes her eyes, and rubs the back of Sam's shoulder lightly. "...It's okay, Sam." They step back from each other, and Sam looks between her and Dean.

The dark-haired girl looks between each Winchester, and settles on Sam.

"I'm gonna go."

Sam barely gives her a second glance as she rushes to the bathroom to change, his features spread into a wide grin at the sight of his siblings. The conversation is brought to a pause. Sam offers each of them a beer, and they wait until the girl leaves before they can truly talk.

After saying goodbye to his guest (rather hastily, to Eve's pleasure), Sam casts his eyes over to Dean. "I don't...How...I mean, why-"

Dean lifts his hands up in front of him. "Hey man, I'm as clueless as the next person. You, however, have some explaining to do."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let me see, yesterday I was hanging out with Demons and pretty much every other type of monsters there are, and now I'm here, completely new and improved. Don't tell me you didn't have anything to do with it."

"Wha- Dean, I didn't!"

"Well, Eve and Bobby didn't do anything."

"Woah, dude, I tried. I tried for a long time, but no Demon would make a deal with me."

"Oh, okay, so what are you doing so close to my grave?"

"I'm in town working a case."

Eve walks over and sits on the side of the bed, narrowing her eyes in thought. "Well, if that's true, and Sam didn't bring you back...then what did?"

Dean grows quiet.

"What do you remember? From Hell?"

"I don't remember anything. I remember the Hellhounds, then black, then I woke up."

Bobby begins pacing the floor, scratching the top of his head. "Well, whatever it was, it was somethin' big and powerful. Pretty much beyond our level."

"Maybe it's something to do with Lilith?" Sam suggests, collapsing in the nearest chair. He tiredly runs a hand through his hair. "But that makes no sense. Why send you to Hell in the first place, only to bring you back?"

"Got me," Dean says with a shrug, taking a large gulp of his beer.

Eve twists her bottle between her hands, her lips twisted in thought. "The Demons can't be happy. We're pretty much at the top of their Most Wanted list. Why would one of them drag you back out?"

"I don't see how it could have been yer' run-of-the-mill demon. They don't have enough juice to pull of somethin' like that," Bobby adds.

"Well whatever it was, it left this." Dean pulls an arm out of his jacket, and gingerly lifts up the sleeve of his t-shirt. Eve and Sam both rise from their seats at the sight of the red, burnt handprint that lays perfectly on Dean's arm.

"Geez," Eve winces.

"Does it hurt?" Sam asks, reaching forward and giving it a gentle poke.

Dean flinches. "AH! Yes!" He quickly rolls his sleeve down, sending Sam a death glare. Sam simply chuckles under his breath in return.

"Looks pretty human," Bobby observes.

"Yeah well, most of them do," Dean says bitterly, taking another large swig. "This sucks."

Sam looks at him, a slight look of disbelief playing on his face. "Dean, being pulled out of Hell seems like a pretty sweet deal to me."

Eve agrees. "Yeah, I wouldn't complain."

"Don't get me wrong, this whole thing is great. Really. But whatever pulled me out has power. Lots of it. And it obviously has something to do with me."

"Hold on. I think I know someone who can help."

Dean drops his gaze to Bobby, watching him with an unhappy stare. "Wow, Bobby, only just thought of that, huh?"

Bobby shrugs and turns for the door. "Alright fine, deal with it yerself."

"No, wait. ...Sorry."

"Who've you got, Bobby?"

"I know this woman, Pamela Barnes. Psychic."

Sam looks at the older man, sending him a skeptical look. "A psychic?"

"I know how it sounds, but trust me. She's the real deal. I bet anythin' that she can figure out who our mystery monster is."

The three Winchesters grow silent, contemplating the idea. Eventually, Eve turns to Dean and gives him a shrug. "It's worth a shot."

Dean sighs and rises from his seat. "...Alright, let's hit the road."

Sam changes quickly, and they walk towards the car together. At sight of the Impala, Dean grins widely.

"Baby! I almost forgot!" He reaches over and rubs a hand against the metal with affection. Eve can almost swear she sees him mouth the words 'missed you' before quickly sliding into the front seat. She smirks to herself, climbing into the back.

"What is that?" Dean demands. Peaking around the front seat, she sees the subject of his dismay.

Sam smiles. "An iPod dock."

"I told you to look after her, not douche her up," Dean says, shooting Sam a cold glare.

"I thought it was mine!"

A large grin spreads across Eve's face in hearing the familiar brotherly quarrel. "In his defence, maybe she could use a little modern touch."

"Shut up, Evie," Dean mutters from the front as the engine purrs.

* * *

When they arrive, Bobby leads them up the porch steps to a small house. A woman answers the door, a little older than Eve and her brothers. A messy mass of dark hair falls around her face, with bright eyes looking around to observe each of them. When she sees Bobby, her lips spread into a warm grin.

"Bobby Singer," she greets, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Bobby returns with a large smile, looking her up and down with eager eyes. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Her eyes fall to the other three, taking her time with each of them. "So, are these the kids?"

"Sure are. Guys, Pamela Barnes. Best damn psychic in the state."

When she sees Dean, she gives her head a small shake in disbelief. "Well, well, well. Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare indivigual."

Dean looks back at Eve and Sam, before giving a quick shrug. "If you say so."

Pamela steps back and nods her head inside. "Come on in."

As they step indoors, Bobby turns and asks, "So, you know anything?"

"Nope. Nobody seems to know anything about who broke your boy out."

Sam looks curious. "Um, who's nobody?"

Pamela looks over and gives him a quick wink. "Spirits, Sugar. Keep up." Eve glances at Dean as the two share a small smirk.

"What next?"

"Séance, I think. See if we can find out who did the deed."

Eve lets her face fall into a frown. "Uh, is that safe?"

"Relax, we're not gonna summon the thing right there and then. We might be able to catch a sneak peak."

Pamela wonders past Dean into the next room, leaving them in silence. Dean looks at the others. "I'm game." He quickly follows her, Sam in tow. Eve looks behind and gives Bobby a gentle shove on the shoulder.

"Got a little thing for her, Bobby?" she teases.

Bobby ducks his head down quickly, adjusting his cap over his head as he mumbles a small, "Shut up."

When inside, Bobby begins blacking out the small room, as Eve lets her eyes wonder. Typical psychic living space. Crystals, old books marked with ancient symbols, some of which she can translate. As she turns, she catchs both Dean and Sam checking out Pamela as she bends down to grab something.

_Men, _she thinks to herself. Reaching over, she gives the back of Sam's leg a small kick. He looks over and quickly gives her a bashful look, having been caught.

"Who's Jesse?" Dean asks.

Pamela gives a small laugh. "Well, it wasn't forever."

"His loss."

The psychic saunters up to him, twists her hips close and whisperes seductively, "Might be your gain." Eve and Sam look at Dean, who's eyes widen.

Pamela casts her eye to the youngest Winchester. "Eve, right? Give me a hand."

Eve follows her to a large bookcase and begins taking down candles just as Pamela does. The older woman stares at her for a moment, a small smirk well worn on her lips.

"So, you're the Winchester girl," she states, placing her hand on her hip.

"Uh, yeah. That's me."

"Hm. You're not quite what I expected."

Placing the equiptment on the table, Eve folds her arms across her chest. "Well, the feeling's mutual, Sister Psychic."

Pamela gives her a smile, before turning and looking toward the two brothers.

Obviously hearing something that Eve had missed, she glances at Sam. "You're invited too, Grumpy."

It amuses Eve to see both Sam and Dean grow rather uncomfortable. Dean turns to Sam and sends him a warning glare. "You are so not invited," she hears him say.

"You're alright. I like you," Pamela continues, turning her attention back to Eve.

"First of a few."

She smiles and pats Eve's shoulder gently. "Let me tell you something. The people that don't like you are the ones who fear you. I've scared quite a fair few in my lifetime."

She turns and leaves Eve standing there. Bobby moves towards the table and takes his seat, followed by Sam. Dean looks skeptical, but follows suit after Eve takes her place between Bobby and Pamela.

"Alright. Take each other's hands."

Eve quickly feels Bobby's hand grab one of hers, and Pamela's grip the other.

"And I need to touch something that our mystery monster touched..." The others watched as she reaches over to Dean, sliding her hand under the table.

A loud thud echoes from under the table. "Woah," Dean stutters, flinching away. "...Well, he didn't touch me there."

"My mistake," Pamela grins.

As they shut their eyes, Eve smirks to herself, and gives a brief thought back to all the girls that Dean and Sam had been with. Most of which she didn't like. They certainly got their fair share of attention among the ladies. Only occasionally would someone as cool as Pamela come along.

As ugly as the image was, she wouldn't actually mind if this woman got her claws into one of the brothers. Better than those skanks they brought back from bars.

Silence fills the circle. There is a mixed air around them. Most of it is Dean, doubting the ability that this would even work. As Pamela begins speaking, everyone freezes and waits with baited breath. "I invoke, conjour, and command you. Appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjour, and command you. Appear unto me before this circle..."

Peeking through her eyelids, Eve catches Dean's doubtful expression. She doesn't blame him. Most of the time, these things were a result of mechanics and illusions, anyway. However, as the thought crosses her mind, she hears the static of the televison.

"I invoke, conjour, and command you. Appear unto me before this circle," Pamela continues, her faced etched into a thoughtful frown. She grows quiet for a moment, before uttering, "Castiel?"

_**Castiel.**_

Eve's eyes snap open. Without warning, something in her mind buzzes, spreading a warm, shallow wave through her veins.

Before she can think, she asks aloud, "Is that his name?"

With her eyes still shut, Pamela turns her head slightly toward her. "Why? Sound familiar?"

When Eve looks back, both Dean and Sam are watching her with open eyes, puzzled looks playing on their faces.

Confusion quickly follows. Nothing about that sounds familiar. It only stirred something strange inside her head. Perhaps the fear of this unknown creature. "No," Eve quickly says, squeezing her eyes shut again.

"Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy."

Dean's watching with wide eyes now. "What's he saying?"

"He's telling me to turn back." As Sam, Bobby, and Eve open their eyes, Pamela continues, her voice growing stronger with determination. "I invoke, conjour, and command you. Show me your face."

The table begins shaking beneath them, the lights above flickering repeatedly. The others quickly feel unnerved, listening to Pamela's words with a slight fear of what will happen.

Bobby shifts in his seat, uneasy. "We should stop."

"I almost got it!" the psychic yells above the chaotic sounds. "Show me your face, now!"

Pamela's hand grasps hers tightly, enough so to make Eve want to pull back. The contact is warm. Really warm. It almost burns. It takes Eve a moment to realise that the feeling does actually _burn. _But Pamela refuses to let go of her hand. Her instincts kick in, and Eve realises that something is not right. Neither Dean, Sam, or Bobby seem to be sharing this feeling. A sharp pain hits her skin, and it takes all the strength she has to yank her hand out of Pamela's. For good measure, she rips her grip away from Bobby as well, and reaches over to touch the wounded skin.

Pamela's screams are the next thing to fill her ears. Fire roars from the table, and a bright light beams from behind her eyes. The others watch in horror as her chair tips and she falls to the ground, wailing in pain. As the fire dies down, Dean and Bobby fling themselves to the ground.

"Call 911!" Bobby demands, and Sam disappears to the other side of the room.

Pamela opens her eyes, revealing hollow shells of melted skin. "I can't see! I can't see!" she howls.

Dean turns to look over his shoulder, watching as his younger sister stares down at her hands in shock. "Eve, what happened?"

Eve can barely speak. The stink of charred skin his thick in the air, and the moans of pain from below barely give her a chance to throw her words in. "Nothing. Just..." She glances down at the hand, which by the previous burning, is expected to be red and blistered. But it looks as good as new, and all pain has disappeared as if it was never there. "I must have been sitting too close to her or something, that's all."

Dean watches her, unsure of what just happened. Both the Winchesters stare at each other, one thought shared between them.

Whatever the thing that did this might be, none of them are looking forward to the first meeting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dislcaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

* * *

Nobody says a word when inside the car. Bobby followed Pamela to the hospital after the ambulance, leaving the Winchesters to make their way around on their own.

None of them say a thing about what had happened. The concept that whatever creature they're dealing with has the power to hurt people in such violent ways is not the most comforting. So they sit together, only half listening to the faint hum of classic rock pouring out the stereo.

When someone finally speaks, it's Dean. "Hey, guys. I have a question."

Sam twists his hands together in thought, his eyes staring down into his lap. "Go ahead."

"What happened after the Hellhounds got me? What happened to you two with Lillith?"

Sam turns over his shoulder and catches a glance at Eve. "She tried to kill us. But there was sort of a...light."

"A light?"

"She couldn't do it. She looked...scared," Eve continues, rubbing her palm across her face. The day had barely begun, and already they had bitten off more than they can chew.

"She ditched the body and left. Last time we saw her."

Dean grows quiet. Shifting in his seat, he turns his head towards Sam. "You didn't go looking for her or anything?"

"No."

"Sam?" Dean repeats, a demanding tone taking over his voice.

"No!" Sam sighs, his shoulders falling.

"...I guess that kinda leads me onto my next question. Why didn't you two stick together?"

Sam doesn't look at Eve this time. He only shakes his head and casts his eyes out the window. "I don't know. It just sorta happened."

"Well that was stupid."

"Excuse me?"

From the rearview mirror, Eve can see Dean's reflection bite his bottom lip in frustration. "You can't...do that. You just can't. What if something happened to one of you?"

"But nothing did."

"We all know we're stronger as a family. Family doesn't ditch each other."

"Dean-"

"I mean, you were both out making deals with Demons and ganking creatures on your own. How dumb do you have to be?" His voice is louder now, taking on a tone that is so familiar to the one Eve used to hear as a child when she or Sam did something bad. "Sam, I'm gonna ask you something, and you're gonna tell me the truth."

Sam looks nervous, but pulls back his shoulders and straightens himself. "Okay."

"...Did you, at any point, use your...'special abilities'?"

"What?"

Dean rolls his eyes at the dim response. "Did you unleash the shining on the monsters?"

Anger flashes across Sam's face. "Dean, no!"

"You swear?"

"I swear!"

Eve sits up and reaches around, placing a hand on Dean's arm. "Dean. Sam wanted to leave after you died. We both took it hard. I didn't stop him. What good would that do? He needed his space, and so did I. ...Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing."

Dean grows silent and lets his eyes fall to the road. The anger somehow slips from his face.

After a few moments, Sam's head drops, and he just manages to mumble a small, if not slightly bashful, "...Thanks."

Eve kicks the back of his seat. Hard. Just for good measure. "Shut up, you Ass. A phone call would've been nice."

Dean lets out a brief laugh from the front, and Sam sinks down into his seat. Eve crosses her arms over her chest and grins.

"Dean, you must be hungry," she says.

"Now _that _is something we can all agree on," he replies with a grin. "Eve, I'm gonna drop you back at the motel. I need you to do some research."

Eve frowns, feeling her stomach rumble. "What are you guys gonna do?"

"We're gonna get something to eat." His eyes briefly cast over Sam. "...And have a little chat. We'll bring you back something."

"And what exactly am I supposed to look up? Freaky eyeball explosions?"

"Lore, legend...anything. Whatever you can scrap is better than nothing."

* * *

Eve sulks as she trudges up to the motel room. She was tired, and hungry, and completely clueless. Not exactly the state she wanted to be left alone in. But Dean wanted to talk with Sam in private, and she couldn't deny him.

As she enters the room, she throws the keys onto the nearest table and strips off her jacket. She grabs a beer from the mini-fridge before searching for Sammy's laptop. After finding it, she sits down at the table and logs on, her mind racing with things to search.

How exactly do you narrow this down? Most things she's hunted, from her first few cases with John, Dean, and Sam, to just the ones she completed on her own. Witches, wendigos, spirits... all the crap that the supernatural world had to offer. But even Bobby knew that this was something way beyond whatever John had written in his journal.

Bobby.

On instinct, she fished her cell out of her pocket and called the number she knew by heart.

A very tired, slightly grumpy voice answers. _"Yeah?"_

"Hey, Bobby. It's me. Just checking in. How's Pamela?"

"_Well, her eyes are gone. What does that tell ya?_"

"Geez, sorry."

_"She won't even tell me what she saw. From what I can guess, it 'aint good. Where are the boys?"_

"They went to get something to eat. Left me to do the research."

_"What exactly are you planning on lookin' for?"_

"I have no idea." She runs a hand through her hair. "Urban lore. Maybe creatures that have strange visual effects. Although part of me really doesn't wanna know."

_"You and me both."_ Some distant voices come from the other line, before Bobby quickly returns._ "I gotta go. Let me know what you find."_

"Will do. Catch you later." She hangs up and drops her phone down on the table. Bringing up a new web page, she begins to search anything she could think of.

After around an hour of completely pointless and disappointing web surfing, Eve slumps into her seat.

Where were Sam and Dean?

It all seemed far too much to handle. Of course, she was happy. More than happy. Nobody had expected Dean to return from Hell, and part of her almost feels guilty for hating the creature that did it so much. Dean would want to find it, that much she knew. But she wanted him to leave it alone; to forget and move on. But of course, that wasn't true Winchester fashion. They liked doing things the hard way.

She rubs her palm against her jeans. What the hell had happened during that morning? The burning, the name...what was it...Castiel? The sense of familiarity that she had never felt normally on their cases. It was all too easy to blame it on the close contact with Pamela, but there was something else. Something she couldn't place.

It was times like this that she wished their Dad was still around. He would know what to do, and exactly how to deal with this. Of course, if he was still around, Dean probably wouldn't have died in the first place. Or Sam. She knew how hard they all tried to keep each other in one piece, especially Dean. But whatever it was that held them together was wearing thin, and that thought scared her more than any monster. Together, they'd dealt with shit that no person should have to deal with. Sure, it made them stronger at times, but at what cost? The loss of loved ones? Nothing was worth that.

The boys arrive a few minutes later, Dean walking through the door with a run-down wearing on his face. "Drop it, Sam."

Sam storms in behind him, shutting the door with a larger force than necessary. "No! Dean, we could have taken them!"

"What, with no weapons? Two against three?" Dean turns around and sends Sam a small, condesending smirk. "Don't work yourself up."

Eve stands from her seat. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"There were demons at the diner."

"You guys okay?"

Sam scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. "Oh yeah. Just fine. Except for the fact that we let the black-eyes walk free."

"We had no reason to get ourselves in trouble like that. They didn't even attack, Sammy!" Dean cries, his brow furrowed deeply in anger. "They're scared of whatever did _this,_" he hisses, yanking up the sleeve of his shirt to unveal the bright red handprint. "They wouldn't even touch us!"

"So we wait here like sitting ducks?"

A heavy sigh escapes the oldest, and Dean throws himself down onto the lumpy couch with a large thud. "Look Sam, if ganking these demons is really top of your list right now, then we'll go back after we've found out whatever it was that dragged me out."

"But-"

Dean holds up a finger, silencing the other. "And no more talking about it until then."

Sam glares down at Dean, before shaking his head to himself and storming into the bathroom. A slam and the sound of clicking locks follow. Dean sits up slowly. "Eve, what'd you find?"

Eve reaches up and rubs the back of her neck, letting her eyes fall to the floor. "Uh...nothing."

"Nothing?" he echoes, a slightly higher pitch taking over his voice.

"Well it's not like I have anything to go on!"

"You know what? Just..." He lets his head fall, and points over to the bed. "Just go to bed. Both of you," he orders.

Eve remains where she is for a few seconds, her mouth opening and closing with unspoken words. She gives up, and sulks over to the bed, kicking her boots off her feet in the process. The day finally catches up with her, and without bothing to change into her pajamas, she flops onto the mattress and shuts her eyes.

* * *

Eve wakes quickly to the sound of screaming. She sits up, and chaos hits her. The television and lights flicker in frantic patterns, and the whole room seems to be shaking. Her eyes drop to the ground, where Dean is kneeling, his hands over his ears as he groans in pain.

Instantly, she drops to the ground beside him and places her hands on his shoulders. "Dean?" After no response, she shakes him. "Dean? What's wrong?"

His screams turn louder, and as his hands slip away, deep red trickles of blood run from his ears. Eve frowns. This is exactly what happens then something is far too loud, but the room, despite it's manic chaos, is silent.

It lasts no longer than a few seconds, and soon, her ears twitch at the sound of glass. Turning her head to the ceiling, she sees a large, threatening crack glisten down the centre of the mirror-covered ceiling. It spreads, and soon, above them is nothing but frosty jagged pieces of jigsaw, waiting to drop. Eve quickly pushes Dean down, and brings her arm over their heads just as the world seems to come tumbling down in shards.

When it seems to finish, she brings him up, dragging him to the ground. Dean is still crying out, his face scrunched in pain.

When the door opens, she almost jumps out of her skin, but then she sees Bobby's figure run towards them both. She lets him drag Dean out, and she takes one last look at the mess before running out the door.

Who needs sleep, anyway?

Somewhere between the hallway and the car, Dean seems to have grown quiet. The blood on his ears have dried out, and he gently pushes Bobby away to walk himself.

"That's what happened at the gas station! After I climbed out!" he yells, anger quickly taking over. "Son of a bitch did it again!"

"Here." Bobby hands him an old piece of fabric to wipe the blood with. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing! Just a high pitched...screaming!"

Eve catches up and tugs on the back of Dean's shirt. "Dean, slow down. Take it easy."

Dean silences himself, thinking quietly while they walk through the parking lot. As they reach Bobby's truck, he speaks again. "Where's Sammy?"

"He wasn't there when I woke up. Must've left before everything happened."

They climb into the car, and Dean rubs at his face in frustration. He turns around and holds his hand out to Eve. "You got a phone?"

She hands him her phone and watches as he holds it to his ear. "Sam, where are you?" He turns and gives the other two a skeptical look. "Alright...Well, the rest of us are going out for a few drinks...Okay...Catch you later..."

As he hands the phone back, Eve stares in confusion. "Why'd you lie?"

"Because we don't need him knowing where we are."

"And, uh, where are we going?"

"Meet and greet."

Bobby lets out a groan in annoyance. "Aw, come on, Dean."

"Guys. Please. We can do this now, kill the damn thing and end this. Now might be our only chance." He shakes his head and throws the bloody frabric into the back. "I'm not waiting for another round of 'Punchbag Dean'."

Despite herself, Eve sees the stress that Dean is carrying. Knowing him well enough to see that he won't stop until he finds out what's what. But she won't let him do it alone, no matter how unsure she might be. "Well...I'm game."

Dean turns to Bobby in question, and Bobby rolls his eyes before starting the engine. "Damn Winchesters," he mutters.

* * *

Just under an hour later, they wait with baited breaths and nervous minds.

The barn is cold and quiet.

The trio work in silence as they prepare for what lays ahead. Eve spreads out every available weapon across an old wooden table, and steps back to admire the collection. Silver knives, holy water, salt rounds...everything they need for practically every monster out there. Part of her can't help but wonder if it would still be enough.

"Got a little art project going on there," she hears Dean say behind her. She turns and sees Bobby's handy work spread across every wall.

"Geez, overkill," she teases, and earns a paintbrush being thrown at her from across the room.

"Every protection charm known to man. Got some traps up there..." Bobby explains, pointing towards the white-splattered wood. "Whatever it is, we're ready."

Dean smirks and makes his way towards the guns. Eve follows behind him, only whispering when they're out of earshot. "You sure you wanna do this?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun," he replies with a shrug. His head quickly drops to her, staring down with gentle eyes. "Now's the time to leave. Just say, I won't be mad."

Shoving his shoulder, she gives a quick scoff. "Are you kidding? I'm not gonna let you have all the fun."

Dean smiles, thankful. They both hoist themselves onto the surface of the table and load their guns. Bobby soon joins them, and opens a large book that has been kept tightly shut until this moment.

"Here goes nothin'," he mumbles. After a confirmation nod from Dean, he ducks his head down and begins to speak in a language that only just sounds familiar to the Winchesters. The strange and twisted words roll confidently from the older man, and for a while, the two siblings are deadly quiet, waiting in the dark.

When Bobby finishes, he shut the book, and lifts his head, as if appearing from a trance.

"What now?" Dean asks, his head twisting and turning around him.

"What do I look like, a magician?" Bobby asks, sarcasm lacing his voice. "We wait, ya idjit."

Dean lowers his gun to his lap, keeping a firm grip around the handle. Eve keeps her eyes locked on the door, only briefly switching away when Bobby sits himself opposite them.

All thoughts of the outside world are forgotten for what seems like hours. They slump, swing their legs and click their fingers together in boredom as the three watch the time pass.

"Are you sure you did it right?" Dean eventually asks, his voice filled with disappointment.

Bobby looks over, an eyebrow raised. Dean sinks back down into himself. Eve blows a stray hair from her face, and takes a moment to look at the walls.

"Maybe it doesn't want to respond," she says mindlessly.

"With that spell, it's not like it has a choice," Bobby replies grumpily.

Half a heartbeat later, the world awakes. Wild winds outside seem to pick up, hitting the walls with a force that might just blow the whole thing over. The three jump from their seats and raise their guns. The roof punches and screeches, echoing throughout the barn. Nobody gets the chance to speak, before the lights shiver and smash above them. Fountains of electric sparks and lights begin to fall.

Both Eve, Dean, and Bobby all turn to the sound of the door creaking open.

Through the downpour of sparks and flashes of lights, she sees the figure emerge. She's unsure of what she was expecting, but this was definitely not it. A man steps forward, average height, dark hair, clad in a blue tie and trenchcoat. Nothing special, certainly nothing that looks like it has the ability to drag someone from the depths of Hell. There is, however, something strange about him. Althought he looks like any other person she may have seen, he has a way about him. Perhaps his walk, or stone-faced expression as he sauntered through the debris.

She's brought violently back to the room as gunshots echo from beside her. Her eyes fall back to the man, who continues walking, never slowing despite the constant stream of bullets piercing into his chest. Dean lets his gun fall, glances at her briefly, and walks to the table to grasp the knife that lies there. He hides it behind his back as the figure comes closer. Eve steps back, hoping to keep a few feet distance between her and whatever this is at all times.

Dean stands tall against the stranger, masking his face in a glare. The man walks up to him, and stops just inches away. Eve can't bring herself to tear her gaze away for more than a second.

"Who are you?" Dean asks, his voice dark and quiet. A voice that's normally reserved for the interrogation of demons.

The man keeps his eyes on Dean, a flicker of something akin to pride runs across his face as he speaks. "I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

Eve looks to Dean, hoping that even a word of that somehow makes sense to him.

"Yeah..." Dean muses. "...Thanks for that." Barely a second later, he brings his arm up from behind himself, and forces the knife sharply into the other's heart. The stranger barely flinches, and simply looks down to the knife brandishing from his chest and gives the faint traces of a smirk. Reaching down, he grasps it tightly and pulls it out. The clatter of the knife hitting the floor causes Bobby to jump beside her. She watches as he shares a glance with Dean, before bringing the iron stick up, ready to swing. As he brings it down, a hand reaches up and mindlessly grabs it in the air.

Bobby, speechless, follows the lead of the creature. He turns, his face calm, and pushes Bobby gently to the ground. Reaching up, he presses his fingers lightly to Bobby's head, and watches as he falls to the ground, as if in a sleep.

Eve, suddenly brought to her senses, steps forward. "Bobby!"

The man turns and brings her to a pause. They both stare.

Eve finds herself frozen in place, almost as if the other's stare is pushing her into the ground. The man, his eyes locked onto hers, tilts his head slightly. His brow knits together, but neither in confusion, nor anger. Eve blinks, brought to a loss. How does she react to this? The man steps forward a little, as if to examine her furthur. He is incredibly still. It's at that point she notices his eyes. Piercing and sharp, they are an icy blue, burning cold and bright right towards hers. It might be the light, but Eve swears that she can see his jaw slack slightly, as if to speak. But he says nothing, and drops his gaze from hers.

Eve, previously prepared to make an attack, suddenly feels under observation, and quickly takes another step back.

Dean speaks up, angered. "What did you do?" he spits, pointing to Bobby's seemingly lifeless form.

The man casts his eyes down. "He's alive. Merely sleeping."

Casting a glance at Eve, Dean nods his head towards their sleeping friend. Eve, slipping behind the strange being, falls to the ground and lifts Bobby's head from the ground onto her knees.

"Who are you?" Dean asks again, stepping around the path of the thing.

"Castiel."

Pamela. Eve shivers as she remembers the sickening smell of burning flesh. It doesn't help that knowing the thing behind her has the capability of doing that.

"Yeah, I figured that as much. I mean, what are you?"

There's a pause. Eve turns to look over her shoulder at the two. Again, it might be the result of the play of light, but she almost sees the pair of cool blue eyes switch to hers quickly, before returning to Dean.

"I'm an Angel of the Lord."

Angel of the Lord.

Gently laying Bobby's head back on the ground, she brings herself up onto her feet, and turns to face the two men.

Well, one man. One...Angel.

She straightens herself, her hands clenching into fists by her side. "We're supposed to take your word for that?"

Castiel, (she supposes), turns his attention from the table of weaponry to face them. The beginnings of a smile are on his lips.

"You don't believe?"

Beside her, Dean scoffs. "Of course not."

"Then it's clear that this your problem. You have no faith."

Both Dean and Eve jump at the sudden burst of light in the barn. Crackles of thunder roar outside, and as the light flashes and blinds the room, the back wall is covered with the image of large, feathered wings. The black silhouette is beautiful, and as the wings spread across the wall, both Winchesters watch in awe.

Without warning, Eve finds the breath being knocked out of her as a loud screeching fills her ears. Flashes of bright white lights fill her eyes.

**_I sentence you to death.__We must remove it.__I will not watch you burn.__Shut your eyes._**

Eve's hands fly to her temples, a pained hiss escaping her lips. Something hits her. Something deep inside her stomach. An aching that brings forward a hollow, empty feeling. A heavy numbness spreads through her body, reaching down towards her fingertips. Hunching over, she waits for something. Anything. But nothing comes, and the wave of nausia is over before it even begun.

_What the fu-_

"Eve?" Dean's voice brings her back.

"I'm fine," she breaths. It's true, she is fine. Abnormally fine. Considering a wave of crazy practically ran her over, she feels as if nothing had happened at all. None the less, she feels Dean's hand reach over and tighten around her arm.

She doesn't miss as Castiel watches her with careful eyes. "My apologies." Genuine sympathy trails in his voice. He's quiet for a moment, looking almost reflectively upon himself. "...My true form can be overwhelming to humans."

"Yeah that, and burning out our friend's eyes," Dean says bitterly. "What kind of Angel are you?"

"It was my mistake. Certain people can perceive my real visage."

"What kind of visage are you in now? Holy tax accountant?"

Castiel looks down on himself. "This? This is a vessel."

Eve narrows her eyes. "Like possession?"

"Nothing of the sort. He actually prayed for this."

Dean steps forward, his eyes glaring toward the angel. "Look, buddy. We're not buying whatever you're selling, so what are you, really?"

Castiel's head tilts. His eyes flicker into confusion as he stares at Dean. "I told you. ...Good things _do _happen, Dean."

Eve looks at Dean, and watches a variety of emotions wash across his face.

"...Yeah, well not in my experience."

When Eve looks back towards Castiel, she sees that he has moved forward, and is now standing just inches away. She resists the urge to move backward, and watches wearily as he looks at Dean with a face of misunderstanding.

"What's the matter?" he asks. Something clicks for him. "...You don't think you deserve to be saved."

Despite herself, Eve actually finds something she can agree about with this guy. Dean, for one thing, has never believed himself to be the good person in all this. Never onces has he believed that he deserves salvation.

Dean looks taken back for a moment. "So why'd you do it?"

"Because God commanded it...Because we have work for you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

* * *

_There was a spot, on Earth, that Eve always found peaceful in times of chaos. _

_Just on the outskirts of Monroe, Ohio, by the outlines of a lake, there was a field. Where the lilacs grew and the sky seemed to stretch for miles. It had been untouched by the humans, and if there ever was a home outside of the Garrison, this was it. _

_On this particular Friday, of the year 1926, Eve stood by the side of the field, near an oak tree. The wind was cool and steady that day. She needed the quiet. Having been in battle yet again that day, she had lost her previous vessel. It was a shame, as she had managed to hold onto her for so many years. A lovely, black haired girl by the name of Suzie that she had been waiting for. All vessels are layed out for them; yet another rule they most obey by. When they choose to use their vessels, is up to them. This model, a slim blonde haired, blue eyed woman, was comfortable also. Of all the Angels, Eve was one of those who changed the most. It was almost a running joke._

_"...Father..." Her whisper was almost lost in the breeze. "I need your voice. ...Tell me that the means of my actions are justified. I lost two brothers and a sister today in battle. Not your orders, of course, but surely your intervention could prevent this?" After a moment of silence, she dropped her head. "Forgive me for speaking so boldly."_

_"You always did."_

_Eve turns her head, and feels the peace return to her. Castiel stood before her, a familiar expression on his features. Calm eyes, and a small smile of sorts._

_"It's rude to listen in on prayers."_

_"That never stopped you," he replies, making his way slowly around the tree, grazing his hand along the bark as he did so. "You listen to mine."_

_"You have nothing to hide from me," Eve grinned._

_Castiel tipped his head slightly, a silent smile on his lips, as if at his own thoughts. "That's what you think. I might just be a dark horse." He spoke the last part quietly, as if he were to be heard by another, unwelcomed visitor. Soon after, he lifted his head. It was just as dangerous to speak such things aloud. Despite this, Eve felt, that when with Castiel, the two could say anything to each other without second thought._

_"Castiel, you are as careful as they come." She gave him a warm smile, always teasing of her friend._

_His smile slipped slowly, as he remembered why he came. "I heard there were losses in the battle with the Archangels," he said, his voice lowered with respect._

_"Yes."_

_"I heard you were injured."_

_"Yes, well," She looked down at herself with slightly open arms. "This is the result."_

_Castiel let out a heavy sigh, and stepped forward to her. "I dislike when we don't fight together. The Archangels are becoming more and more dramatic, and this is the result."_

_"You know I fight well."_

_"That's not what I'm trying to say."_

_"Then what are you trying to say?"_

_She watched as he looked out to the fields, his eyes darkened with secret burdens that no other Angel would ever understand. "When I heard of the deaths, I thought it may have been you. Only for a moment. A second, at that." When he looked up once more, his lips are tight together. He seemed to relax a little more as he exhaled. "But then I realised that I would feel it if you were gone. I would feel you missing."_

_Eve sighed and shook her head. "Castiel-"_

_"Now do you see what you are doing?" His voice was suddenly raised, in a way that she'd only ever heard a few times before. His distress was more obvious then. "Please, do not follow Anna with her ridiculous schemes and ideas, it is too dangerous." In the end, he turned his back toward her, unable to hold her eyes._

_"This is what I believe. Please respect that."_

_His hands balled into fists, and it made him angry. Such a silly, human action. However, he could not bring himself to calm down at the images in his head of fallen brothers and sisters. Wings charred into the ground. "I cannot let you walk into-"_

_Before she could help herself, she placed her hand on his shoulder, and forced him to turn. As soon as she saw his face, her hand rose to his cheek and pressed lightly against it. "Trust me." Her voice was gentle, and soothing. She could feel Castiel press his check into her hand a little more. The movement was so small, that it could not be seen from a distance. She felt it none the less. "It might not make sense now, but it will." _

_She hated herself for causing him so much grief. If only he understood what she did. The doubts that some of the others had felt. Their questioning towards the Father...she believed it all. After all, Eve was never one for following indirect orders. A rebellious one of sorts._

_"If you are found out, I will not be able to help you," Castiel said gravely._

_"I am not asking for your help. I'm asking for a little faith."_

_He frowned and opened his lips, as if to speak again, but she ran her thumb over the rough skin of his jaw. It silenced him instantly. Neither spoke for what seemed like hours after. _

_It was a very secret, yet very precious thing that they had. The touching. It was an unspoken rule that unless in combat or healing, the Angels should not touch. A hand on the shoulder perhaps, or a clasped hand if they were incredibly discreet. Castiel and Eve seemed to find that in each other's company, they would cross his line more than necessary. It was centuries ago, yet seemed like the day before that they had first touched by a slip of the hand. In a warfare, Castiel exorsised a Demon by the name of Avilah up against a wall on Earth. Eve had held the Demon down whilst he did so. Neither knows who did it first, but a hand slipped and grabbed the other's, and they didn't let go for a while._

_Castiel had always been the reluctant type. He found the feeling rather pleasant as he made the contact, and afterwards felt shame and confusion. Their friendship had always been the cause of alien feelings and, dare he say, emotions. But that was centuries ago, and they still never found reason to stop. Now it was comforting, a sign of who they were. Nobody else touched either one of them. For some unknown reason, Castiel seemed very comfortable at that idea. That it was something none of their brothers or sisters knew about. Something that they couldn't destroy._

_Even now, in times of such confusion and mistrust, when many things had become uncertain, he still craved it. There was something deep within the pit of his soul that dreaded the thought of Eve standing with the other Angels. If someone even caught a breath of her name amongst the rumours, she would die._

_Lifting his face quickly from her hand, he caught her eyes once more. He could hear Urial calling for him. "I must go."_

_Eve said nothing as the flutter of wings echoed in the air, leaving her alone once more. _

* * *

"Dean. Dean?"

Eve shakes Dean's shoulder as he sleeps. She can't quite get there as easily. Images of wings and blue eyes bombarded her whenever she tried to shut her eyes. There is something buried deep inside her now, something that might be actual, raw fear. She hates the feeling. Demons and monsters don't scare her. There's only a few things that can do that, and supernatural creatures aren't one of them.

Bobby's house was always a sancturary for the Winchesters. When they were young, and John would go for hunts that were just out of their level, she and her brothers would stay here for days on end, living a semi-normal life. Bobby never forced them to do what they didn't want. Eve always thought that he was the world's best babysitter, letting them sit out until midnight on the front porch, counting the stars. He would let them play in the scrap yard, and she even remembers him letting Dean have his first beer. It was a happy place, that she loved. But tonight, it seems more like a prison than a haven.

Dean had wanted to sleep on the couch, so she managed to make her way quietly down the stairs and sneak through the kitchen into the living room. He was curled up into a lump on the couch, a blanket thrown to the floor, and his face etched into a troubled frown.

The thought of what happened to him downstairs made her shiver. He hadn't spoken about it, but then again, neither she or Sam actually wanted to know. If he didn't want to re-live it, then that was his choice.

"Dean," she whispers.

He shifts slowly under her hand. "Hmmpphff-"

"Dean please..."

_"Dean, can you help me?"_

_Dean, thirteen years old, lifted his head from the television. As instructed, Sam and Eve were sitting at the table of a dingy motel room, up to their elbows in books. Some were their Dad's, and some were Bobby Singer's. Either way, they all contained the same information. Myths and legends, famous notes from hunters that explained the killings of rare creatures. Dean watched them for a while, remembering all the times he had been told to read those. He even remembered enjoying it. But seeing the kids, no older than eight at Sam's age, read over killing methods and tips...it made him want to rip the pages from their hands and sit them in front of Scooby-Doo or something. _

_However, that would help nobody. He shuddered at the thought of something happening to them as a result of poor training. _

_"Sure," he said, rising from his seat and stretching his arms above his head._

_"I can't read this Latin," Eve said, her small mouth in a pout as she pointed to an old page. "It's too hard."_

_"Nothing's too hard, Evie," Dean replied, offering her a smile. "But we'll work it out together. You alright, Sammy?"_

_"Hmm," Sam mumbled, his nose pointed down into the books. Always was a nerdy kid._

_"Okay." Dean leaned over his younger sister and frowned at the complex language. "Uh, I think this means 'rising'. I'm pretty sure this is talking about the damnnation process for a demon, right here. And this definitely means 'above all healing'."_

_"It means 'above all _seeing_.' Geez," Sam cut in._

_Dean looked toward his little brother and frowned. The kid seemed to be getting a worse attitude everyday. "Well, you could help her. We all know I suck at Latin."_

_"She can do her own work, like everyone else."_

_Eve looked up at Sam, her eyes watching him carefully. Her large hazel eyes were laced with sadness. "Are you mad at me, Sam?"_

_"No, sweets. He's ain't mad."_

_"Is it because of what you told me this morning?"_

_Dean stiffened a little. "What did he tell you?"_

_Sam's head shot up, as he pointed a pen towards the younger sibling. "Don't say a word, Eve."_

_"He said that I should keep quiet and stay outta the way on this case," she said quietly, her head lowering to the table. "He said that if I bugged Dad anymore then I'd be kicked outta the family."_

_"Evie, shut up!" Sam ordered. _

_"And he said that I was never really part of it to begin with." Eve turned her large, questioning eyes to Dean. "What did he mean?"_

_Dean was frozen in place, his hands fisted together as they quivered with rage. But he swallowed down the lump that was beginning to form in his throat, and placed a shaking hand on her head. "Nothing. He didn't mean anything by it. Why don't you take a break and watch some TV?"_

_Eve looked up and studied Dean for a few moments. She had seen that look in his eyes before. It was that look he got when their Dad got home later than he should from a hunt, or when Sam mentioned their Mom. Dean never once scared her, but she and Sam knew pretty well that when he looked like that, it was time to haul ass._

_"Okay," she breathed, and lifted herself down from the seat. It was difficult for her to walk across the floor without stumbling a little, as these jeans were Sam's old ones, and she still wasn't tall enough to fill them out. She heard nothing from the two boys, but turned the TV up a notch, just to avoid hearing the harsh words._

_"Sam, you are one piece of work," Dean spat under his breath. _

_This wasn't the first time this had happened. The older Sam got, the more resentful he became of Eve, and the more trying he became to hurt her. John never seemed to notice, but Dean caught every moment of it. _

_"What?!" Sam hissed. "Why does she get special treatment!?"_

_"You think that is special treatment?!" Dean replied, pointing towards the small girl on the cold, stinking couch. "This isn't good for any of us. But we've got to get through it together!"_

_Sam's eyes narrowed. "When's it gonna end, Dean? When we're adults?"_

_"Sammy, I can't answer that." Dean sighed and rubbed his palm over his face. "You're not an idiot. In fact, you're the smartest kid I know. When Dad's found the thing that killed Mom-" He tried to ignore the stab of pain that pricked his heart. "-Then this will be over. But in the meantime, we need to be a family. Evie's a good kid. She's your little sister."_

_Sam rose from his seat slowly, shutting the book in his hands as he did so. "...No she's not."_

_Dean reached across the table and grabbed Sam's arm. He held it tight, not enough to hurt him, but to pull him back from wherever his angry mind was. "Yes, she is. Just as much as I'm your brother. She's got a good heart. Don't make her as bitter as you feel."_

Dean's eyes flutter a little as they open wearily. When they settle on Eve, he reaches up to rub his face. "Eve?"

"Yeah. Can we talk?"

With a large exhale, he pushes himself up from the couch and budges up next to her. "Hmm."

"I'm just a little worried."

He looks over his shoulder towards her, his tired eyes narrowed in concern. There's a mild understanding in his features, like he's been thinking the same thing. "Yeah. Me too."

"I mean, _angels?_ If they do really exist, and that's a huge 'if', then where the hell have they been this whole time?"

Dean shrugs."The more troubling question is what the hell do they want with us? That...little...winged weirdo-"

"Castiel."

"Whatever. He look legit to you?"

Eve looks down to the ground. The mysterious man in the trenchcoat comes back into her head. The way he talked, the way he'd moved...he had a power to him, that much was obvious. "I guess. He wasn't any Demon."

"Sam seems to think he's the real deal."

"You talked to him about it after we told him?"

Dean nods. "He buys this whole angel crap." He flickers his green eyes towards hers, and places an arm around her shoulders. "Don't let it bother you for tonight. We're safe, okay? Get some sleep, and we'll deal with it in the morning."

When Eve looks up and sees his tired eyes, a wave of guilt runs through her. She never lets these things get to her like this, and now she was drawing Dean into her fears. The guy's been through enough already. She nods and stands from her seat. "I'm sorry I woke you."

A familiar, goofy grin made it's way onto Dean's face. "It's okay. That's what I'm here for."

She smiles at him, and turns to leave. As she makes her way towards the stairs once more, the feeling in her stomach hasn't settled. If the Angels were real, and they were on Earth, then she knew as clear as day what it meant. Something was horribly wrong; something that they couldn't fix. If they needed assistance of God, then the world was going to shit. Big time.


End file.
